


(not) a matter of timing

by zarahjoyce



Series: only a matter of [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Amused!Jon, F/M, Modern AU, drunk Sansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarahjoyce/pseuds/zarahjoyce
Summary: Gently, Jon lowers her hand with his and says, "Look. I'm not saying I'm not thankful for your patronage, but... you've had too much to drink, Sans. Maybe I should just take you home or--""No! Don't do that. Don't bring me home. Don'teverbring me home." Her head lolls to the side as she adds, "This is my home now. This bar, this... 'Beyond the Wiener'--"Jon winces. "Wall," he corrects. "It's... 'Beyond the Wall'--""Shh,"she says, placing a finger up against his mouth. "I'm still speaking."He sighs.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: only a matter of [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740979
Comments: 16
Kudos: 114
Collections: Jon x Sansa Drabble





	(not) a matter of timing

**Author's Note:**

> Entry to the Jonsa DrabbleFest for May 2020 Day 5: Beyond The Wall.

"Look, to be perfectly honest, I'd much rather drink piss than see the guy."  
  
Jon laughs. "That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"  
  
Sansa rolls her eyes. "You don't know him, Jon. _I_ do. And let me tell you: Ramsay Bolton is the shittiest piece of shit there is, and _no one_ in the world can convince me otherwise." She pauses, eyes on the tequila in front of her. "And apparently I'm getting engaged to him - all because my parents owe his parents _something_ and I'm the _fucking_ collateral." She takes the shot, then wordlessly asks for a refill.  
  
Gently, Jon lowers her hand with his and says, "Look. I'm not saying I'm not thankful for your patronage, but... you've had too much to drink, Sans. _Maybe_ I should just take you home or--"  
  
"No! Don't do that. Don't bring me home. Don't _ever_ bring me home." Her head lolls to the side as she adds, " _This_ is my home now. This bar, this... 'Beyond the Wiener'--"  
  
Jon winces. "Wall," he corrects. "It's... 'Beyond the Wall'--"  
  
"Shh," she says, placing a finger up against his mouth. _"I'm_ still speaking."  
  
He sighs.  
  
And wonders _why_ he's in this situation in the first place - for the nth time.   
  
Fortunately there isn't anyone else around at that moment, so he can indulge in speaking to the distractingly beautiful - and distractingly _drunk_ \- Sansa Stark without any worry.  
  
 _"Why_ aren't you talking?" she demands, pouting.   
  
Jon crosses his arms. "You _just_ said--"  
  
"If you're not gonna talk--" Sansa reaches over the counter to get another glass, grabs the tequila bottle, and pours a shot, "--then just drink with me."  
  
"Sans--"  
  
"I'll pay for the bottle, don't worry." She refills her own, then jiggles the other shot glass before handing it to him. "Come on. Commiserate with me."  
  
Because apparently _he can't say no_ to his number one _paying_ customer, Jon takes it. Eh, might as well, then. "To debts and impending foreclosure." He raises his glass in a toast.   
  
She grins. "To thoughts of running away _and_ changing identities."  
  
They clink glasses - and drink.  
  
"Wait," she says right after, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Foreclosure? You're closing The Wiener?"  
  
Wincing again, Jon surreptitiously takes the tequila bottle away from her. "I don't want to," he admits. "But if business doesn't get better soon, I may _have_ to."  
  
She pats his arm. "Sorry," Sansa says. "Here I am burdening you with my troubles--"  
  
He shrugs. "Keeps me from thinking of my own, anyway."  
  
Then she goes really, _really_ quiet.  
  
"Sans?" he prompts, feeling unnerved with how _oddly_ she's studying him.  
  
"Jon," she says, sounding serious and _sober_. "How would you feel if I tell you that I can help you with your problems, _if_ you'll help me with mine?"  
  
"I'd feel as though I should just take you home _before_ you say anything more," he replies. Then, after a moment, "But... let's say I'm curious. How would you--"  
  
"Marry me."  
  
"--uh?"  
  
Sansa grins.

**Author's Note:**

> my 50th JonSa fic holy shit


End file.
